


Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum!

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's WHUMPTOBER 2018 [9]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Future gen captains, Gen, Golden Age of Piracy, Second year captains, Stranded, Whumptober 2018
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16236755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: Once a year, Golden Bay becomes a haven for pirates all around Japan, gathering for the greatest event of their time.The annual Boatswain's race.Each pirate Captain selects his protégé, the one he's been training to one day create his own crew, and sends them off to race around a challenging course against their peers.This year, it's Yahaba's first time to race, and he's determined to beat thoseannoyingrivals of his.





	1. Set Sail!

The docks of Golden Bay were usually quiet and peaceful, ships coming in on schedule, and leaving once goods were sold or loaded. It was a pirate capital, but Golden Bay was strictly regulated.

Once a year, however, those regulations fell for a special event, one that caused every dock in the bay to be occupied by ships of different grandeur and design, the many flags of pirate crews decorating their masts,. It became a city of sails and general merriment.

The town clamouring with sea shanties of the drunk, laughter of the social, and competition of the excited. 

It was time for the annual Boatswain’s race.

Each pirate captain chose their protégé, the one who would follow in their footsteps and captain their own ship one day, and that protégé was set to race alone against others from the other pirate crews and clans.

On sailing boats, of course. No pirate could sail a full ship by themselves.

“Feeling nervous~?” Yahaba sits on the edge of the dock, staring up at the Aobajousai, swinging his legs over the edge. He jumps at the voice from behind, not having heard his Quartermaster approach.

“Not at all, Iwaizumi-senpai.” Iwaizumi moves to sit next to him, leaving just enough room to place down a stack of cards between them. He sweeps the stack out like a fan, flips them over, and arranges them.

“It’s okay if you are. The first time Oikawa did this, he was so nervous he got seasick. _Seasick_. A _**pirate**_.” Yahaba huffs lightly, resting his chin in his hands.

“But which one of cannot swim, I wonder~?” Pausing in his card game, Iwaizumi swats the back of Yahaba’s head, making him laugh.

“Cheeky bugger.” The entire Seijou crew knows the serious reason their Quartermaster can’t swim, but that doesn’t mean they can’t tease him for it. Yahaba sighs, looking up at the clear skies.

“I just have a bad feeling.” Iwaizumi’s hand still over his cards, ready to flip the last one, which should hopefully win him this game. He turns his own eyes skyward, overshadowed by concern.

“You’ve always read the weather better than anyone else on the ship. If you want to withdraw-”

“No! No way! Seijou hasn’t entered this competition for _4 years_ because Oikawa was too busy training me. That means Shiratorizawa has held the winning position for _eight_. Now I’m here… I can’t let Shirabu of all the bilge rats win again!”

“Well, if he infuriates you that, give no quarter.” _Show no mercy_. He might say it calmly, but Yahaba knows full well Iwaizumi is just as stupidly competitive as their own Captain. Speaking of…

“Where is Captain Oikawa, anyways?” Iwaizumi snorts, rolling his eyes.

“Where do you _think_ he is?”

“... In the tavern, loaded to the gunwall?” Iwaizumi nods, wiping hands down his face with an exasperated groan.

“Stone. Cold. Drunk. I should have known once Bokuto and Kuroo made contact. Those pacific pirates can handle Nelson’s Folly better than any of us.”

“But give them Sake, and they’ll be staggering around with land legs~.” Iwaizumi laughs, preparing to say something else to help keep Yahaba’s mind off his nerves, when Kunimi appears over the bow of the Aobajousai.

“Iwaizumiiiiii. Kindaichi’s stuck in the rigging again.” Iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose with a fond, weary sigh. It’s easy to see the smile tugging at the corners of his lips though. The kids are only 11, and prone to getting into a lot of trouble.

Kunimi because he’s lazy, and Kindaichi because he’s _overly_ determined and clumsy. They’re new to the crew, adopted from the streets of their last docking a few months ago. In that short time, the Quartermaster seems to have adopted them, soft at heart.

“Alright, I’m coming lad. Run a message to Kyoutani that we’ll need some rope from the supplies store.”

“Okaaay.” Half-asleep as he always is, Kunimi slips on some shoes and then walks along the plank, backflipping off it to land on the wooden dock and stroll off, completely nonchalant to the fact that normal pirates _don’t do that_.

“I’d better go help Kindaichi. Try not to stress too much, Yahaba. You’ve got all the skills you need and more to be a great Captain someday.” A little colour flushing his cheeks, Yahaba looks down at the ocean below his feet as Iwaizumi stands, pats his back, and then boards the ship.

Yahaba sighs heavily. He might have all the skills, as Iwaizumi said, but so will his competitors. So will the other boatswain's taking to the sail and racing across the untamed ocean.

“Oi, Yahaba! There you are, rapscallion!” He clenches his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

“Futakuchi.” 

“Ahoy~.” Futakuchi saunters up to him, grinning in that devious way he always does. One of Dateko’s crew, he has a pressure on his shoulders to carry the legacy of the Iron Maiden, the largest ship currently docked. It’s more like a fortress, impenetrable and defended to the point that even the Royal Navies have never broken through the helm. 

“So you’re finally racing, huh? Took you long enough.” Knowing he won’t get any peace now he’s been located, Yahaba pushes himself to his feet and glares up at Futakuchi.

“And what about it?” Futakuchi cackles, bringing forth a surge of annoyance from Yahaba.

“I would’ve through the protégé of ‘the scourge of the seven seas’ would have been prepared long ago!” Yahaba’s brow creases, feeling a prickling of anger. Just because his mentor and Captain had a fearsome reputation, it didn’t mean Yahaba _lacked_ it.

“Oh? Are you sure you haven’t jumped the gun, Futakuchi? Have you _really_ trained enough?” The jibe is enough to wipe the grin off Futakuchi’s face, his eyes flashing with a storm as they narrow, and his voice deepens.

“Well. We’ll find out, won’t we?” Like someone has clicked their fingers, the animosity vanishes and Futakuchi jesters a thumb over his shoulder.

“Come join the rest of us! We’re filling our canisters and scrounging up food.” 

“... Is Shirabu going to be there?”

“Duh. All of us are.”

“Then no. You alone are hard work enough, I’m not dealing with _him_ too.” Futakuchi laughs, already steering Yahaba by the shoulders. He glances at Hanamaki stacking boxes at the bottom of the gangway as if pleading for help, but the cooper only waves cheerily.

“Have fun, kiddos.”

“Traitor!” Laughing and going back to inspecting the boxes for damage, Hanamaki whistles a shanty as Yahaba is carted off. Yahaba grumbles at first, but he eventually just walks ahead of Futakuchi, heading towards the merchandise shack.

Each crew will have a chance to sell their treasures, wares, and catches here, including maps and navigation charts. Today, it’s the turn of Nekoma, one of the pacific crews, and a small boy about Kindaichi and Kunimi’s age manages the sales.

“Hey, Shibayama! Is everyone else inside already?” Futakuchi jabs his thumb towards the concealed staircase next to the shack, a room for competitors only. It’s where they’ll stock up on water, food, lanterns, and anything else they wish to take with them.

“Aye! Terushima was the last to arrive, so it’s just you two left!” 

“Sweet. Good luck with your loot!” Futakuchi lifts the doors to the restricted area, but Yahaba doesn’t follow. He’s still staring at the table, at Nekoma’s wares. Even though Nekoma is a pacific ship, occasionally, it pays the toll to cross through the Panama canal, and does trades within the Caribbean.

There, amongst fine jewelry and star maps, is a small circular object with a 6 pointed star on the front, a palm tree, and filigree decorative engravings. Shibayama shuffles forwards on his stall, keen to make a purchase.

“Caught your eye?”

“Depends. It doesn’t seem very useful.” Plucking it out of the wares, Shibayama presses the little latch on the top, and it pops open to reveal a compass. He must see the awe light up Yahaba’s eyes, because he grins like he’s already sold it.

“Four gold coins!”

“... That’s rather… Cheap.”

“Captain said to give discount to any competitors, especially any from crews he wants to establish trade routes with.” Yahaba humms a little.

“Oikawa would probably agree, just to mess with Shiratorizawa’s maps.” He looks over the compass, wondering if he really needs it, or just wants it. Either way, it’s only 4 gold coins… A whole pint of rum is only 2 gold coins, so it wouldn’t be excessive…

“I’ll take it.” He even adds in an extra twenty silver coins for Shibayama to keep for himself, smiling softly at the excited little gasp he gets. He might only be 5 years older, but he’s soft for the children. Not as soft as Iwaizumi, who seems to adopt by default, but soft.

“Yahaba! Hurry _up!!!_ ” Futakuchi appears just long enough to grab Yahaba’s wrist and drag him down into the room. Only just managing to pocket the compass before they enter, Yahaba can already hear the conversation through the door.

“- looking pretty banged up.” 

“Yeah, we weren’t expecting to run into the Navy on the way here.”

“The _Navy?!_ How did you escape?”

“Daichi ordered us through Razer Ridge Gauntlet.” Laughed protests and gasps of amazement meet Ennoshita’s claim, and Yahaba suddenly understands why The Corvid appeared to be in such a sorry, beaten state.

“ _That_ was suicidal.” Eyes turn his way as he enters, Ennoshita, Akaashi, and Fukunaga holding up their hands in greeting, Terushima lunging forth with a hug that Yahaba masterfully avoids, and Shirabu looking away with a ‘tch!’.

“Nice to see you joining us this year, Yahaba~.” He nods towards Ennoshita with a friendly smile, before glaring at Shirabu. Shirabu only returns the glare as Yahaba sits down as far away from him as possible.

“It’s good to _be_ here. I thought Oikawa was never going to let me compete.”

“Shows how incompetent he thinks you are.” Yahaba doesn’t even have to raise to Shirabu’s muttered insult before Futakuchi whacks the back of his head, and Fukunaga throws an olive at him.

Shirabu splutters and looks at them in betrayal, but then Terushima is slinging himself around Shirabu’s neck.

“Don’t be meeeean! It’s a friendly competition! Fri-End-Ly!” Shirabu’s face screws up in disgust at the heavy mead and rum scent on Terushima’s breath.

“How much grog have you _had_ , you carouser?” 

“I’m only squiffy!” Ennoshita huffs a laugh, moving Terushima’s mug away from his reach.

“You’re a little more than _tipsy_ , Teru~. Drink some water, or you’ll end up going overboard.” Akaashi quietly replaces the spirits with water, despite Terushima’s whining.

“Not to worry, not even the sharks will touch him if he reeks of this much alcohol.” 

“Akaashi, don’t be mean like Shirabu! He’s a bad influence!” Yahaba laughs loudly.

“Sounds about right! Shirabu, bilge rat and bad influence!” The others laugh with him, knowing it’s all in good jest, Shirabu scowling like he’s just been told he’ll never sail again. For a boy raised on the water, that would be a tragedy for him.

It had taken Shirabu a few years to get used to the pirating lifestyle, having been raised a fisherman's son, taken onboard by the Navy, and eventually ‘go on account’ to be Navigator upon Ocean Eagle. 

It wasn’t often that pirates knew how to read both stars, maps, and compasses, so Shirabu had been a valuable asset to Shiratorizawa. Of course, being as petty as he was, Yahaba had quickly picked up all the same skills from port towns and their looted Navy ships.

Terushima, too, was incredibly good at navigating, but his interests lay more in being a gunner. He would definitely be a good future Captain once he split from Johzenji, but for now, he was content to load the cannons aboard Fearless. Terushima was knowledgeable enough to be feared, if only he wasn’t half-drunk all the time…

Ennoshita, at first, had seemed an odd choice to be Daichi’s protégé. He always slipped through the cracks, lingering in the background like a shadow, content to do menial chores. Yahaba hadn’t understood his nomination until he saw the way Ennoshita handled the cretins aboard The Corvid. Without him, Karasuno would be completely loose in the stays.

Yahaba didn’t know much about Akaashi and Fukunaga, but he knew they had calm judgement, that Akaashi was incredibly persuasive, and Fukunaga fair but stern. Apparently he also had a slight reputation for dowsing crewmates in water if they started fighting. Which was… Interesting.

Lastly, Futakuchi. He irritated Yahaba to no end, but not even _he_ could deny that Futakuchi was destined to be a pirate. His daring and ruthless attitude, combined with how he would take risks but avoid battles he couldn’t win, spelled him out as the perfect Captain.

“Not long until we set sail… Everyone got water and lanterns?” Yahaba quickly grabs a spare lanterns from the side, and checks the water pouch on his hip. He nods once everyone else has confirmed it. Ennoshita exhales steadily and rises from his seat with a quiet determination.

“Let’s go.” From the second they step outside, they are no longer friends, but rivals.

“Ahooooooy!!!” Terushima, obviously, doesn’t quite pick up on the mood change and merrily skips out the room, towards where their sailboats are. 

Some are old, but tried and tested. Others are built anew. Yahaba blinks as he spots Matsukawa leaning over the sailboat that he’s supposed to be sailing in the race.

“Senpai?” Matsukawa looks up, holding nails in his mouth, and he quickly takes them into his splintered, rough hands. A carpenter’s hands are never smooth.

“Yo. Just adding some final touches. Oikawa said the rudder hit some rocks last year, so I’ve replaced it, and the crew all wanted to add a little personal touch, so…” Looking at the planks of wood, Yahaba can see the unskilled carvings of his crewmates on each plank, which has been layered over the actual floor.

From Oikawa’s little message of good luck, to Iwaizumi’s ‘stay focused’, and Hanamaki’s tiny poem about staying cheerful in the worst of times, there’s courage.

From Watari’s silly carving of that one time he lost his hat, and a splatter of chipped wood that might just be their Seijou family from Kindaichi, there’s warmth.

Kunimi has literally just carved out a square, but Yahaba knows it means for him to stay safe and be cautious on the open seas. Kyoutani’s messy cutlass is an inside thing, reminding him to fight with the techniques they’d created by sparring together.

“Where’s yours, senpai?”

“Oi, oi, don’t go getting too greedy now.” Despite his words, Matsukawa turns the mast around, displaying a little configuration of the _one_ constellation Yahaba always forgets. Circinus. His brow furrows.

“That’s… Coincidence.” He draws out the compass from his pocket, showing it to Matsukawa. They’re different types of compasses, one used for direction, the other for measuring distance, but _both_ are compasses.

“I-... Well, that’s weird. You know what the means though?”

“No?”

“It means someone is sending you a message. A sign. You’re going to need these compasses with you on your journey.” Yahaba rolls his eyes.

“I don’t believe in messages sent by _gods_ , it’s just pure coincidence. And of course I’m going to need a compass. I’m sailing.” Matsukawa’s brow furrows a little, but he doesn’t comment on it, just stepping back and ruffling his messy hair.

“I was going to add the Norma constellation too, but you got here too early…”

“The carpenters square? _Really_ , Matsukawa?” The Carpenter laughs, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

“Hey, I gotta leave my calling card!”

“All competitors to their starting positions!” The shout from the main area where everyone will watch them depart has Yahaba jolt to attention.

“You should go. Wish me luck?” He steps onto the sailing boat, and Matsukawa places a gentle hand atop his head.

“Like you’re going to need _luck_. You’ll do fine, kid!” He ruffles Yahaba’s hair roughly, racing back towards the safety of the crowd before Yahaba can retaliate. Sitting on his boat, staring out at the calm horizon and blue skies that stretch onwards forever, Yahaba’s stomach stirs with that bad feeling once again.

“Nerves… Just nerves…” His whisper is stolen by the breeze, and there’s silence… Then, a loud bang. The starting cannon has been fired, and all of the competitors edge their boats into the water, sorting out their sails and rudders to their liking, and take the wind into the ocean blue.

This is the moment they’ll prove themselves. This race, as friendly as it may be, was a chance for them to show themselves off as the pirates they were, and the Captain’s they intended to be.

Yahaba still had that bad feeling in his gut.

But he had no idea what lay ahead, and how bad it was going to get.


	2. Harpies!

For three hours, the juniors had sailed, but by now, they had considerably spaced apart. Yahaba could see Ennoshita’s sail far in front of him, riding the current, but Yahaba chose to stay out of it because he knew it crossed with another that would drag Ennoshita west if he couldn’t get out in time.

Shirabu, as expected, had already gotten far enough ahead that he was just a speck on the horizon. Terushima was the same but… In the opposite direction. Behind. He’d catch up as he sobered, that was given.

Futakuchi was slightly behind Yahaba, but far enough East that they couldn’t converse, and up ahead, Akaashi and Fukunaga seemed to sail _together_ , like they weren’t competing with each other at all. Maybe that was their plan. Get ahead of the Golden Bay lot, and then race each other to the finish line.

But who knew what they were thinking? Yahaba doesn’t have time to worry about that. There’s a short passageway coming up filled with rocks and crags and shipwrecks. If any of them want a chance of getting through alive, they’ll need to go single file.

The order might just determine the outcome of the race.

“Northerly heading… 5 more degrees port… Adjust sails by a quarter… Rudder set to resting.” He mutters to himself as he goes through the actions, organizing his sails to catch the wind and give him a speed boost to get ahead of Ennoshita, Akaashi, and Fukunaga.

He can’t catch Shirabu before the passageway, but he can get close enough to overtake him upon coming out of it.

And yet, that bad feeling _won’t go away_. He surges forwards, keeping one hand on the rope for this sails and the other on the steering rudder, grinning boyishly as he overtakes the three as planned, getting sorted for the single file section. 

Ennoshita’s close enough that he hears the boy sigh over the wind.

“Wasting stamina already, Yahaba?”

“It’s not wasting if I use it tactfully!” Ennoshita laughs, dropping back so the crest of Yahaba’s boat doesn’t unsettle his own plain sailing as they enter the passageway. The shadows cast over them by the tall rock are ominous, and Yahaba gulps as he rolls his sail up and switches to focusing on the rudder.

“Do you ever get a pit in your stomach that you can’t seem to get rid of?”

“Indigestion?”

“No, no, like… A feeling. Wariness.”

“You’re unsettled.” He nods, before remembering he’s probably slightly too ahead for Ennoshita to see his small movements.

“Aye. Have been since we docked.”

“It’s not nerves?”

“If it _was_ , they would have vanished as soon as we hit the open water.” Ennoshita makes a sound of contemplation. But he doesn’t have time to deliberate before they’re interrupted.

“Get _off_ , you foul things! Begone!” Shirabu’s boat is up ahead. It’s _swarmed_ by Harpies, screeching and grabbing, their talons clawing at his sails and clothes, trying to pluck the boy straight from the ship.

It’s too late for them, this time of year. They should have left by now, their chicks raised and migration begun. But they’re… Here. And they’re hungry. They must be, if they’re attacking a teenager rather than their usual prey of children.

“Ow! Get off!” Shirabu attempts to bat them away with a sheathed cutlass, but it doesn’t seem to be doing any good. Yahaba spots something dangerous.

“Shirabu! You’re drifting!” His boat is at the mercy of the waves whilst he’s distracted, getting increasingly close to the rocks. Yahaba clicks his tongue, reaching into his bag of wears for something, anything, to deter the Harpies, but then there’s a whoosh over his head.

Ennoshita has a bow and arrow. He fires them one after the other, piercing Harpies left and right as their bodies fall into the water, or they retreat to their cliffed nests, until the last few disperse by themselves.

Yahaba sighs in relief, throwing out a rope for Shirabu to grab, hopefully pulling his boat away from the crags. It works, and Shirabu narrows his eyes at Yahaba suspiciously.

“Why are you _helping_ me?”

“Because I have to beat you, obviously. I can’t do that if you’re in Davy Jones's locker.” Shirabu snorts and rolls his eyes. He knows, truly, that Yahaba is using that as a lame excuse, but he’s not going to mention it. 

“As if I’d let _Harpies_ stop me.”

“You’re bleeding.” Shirabu has a large gash down his arm where a Harpy struck lucky with her talons, and there’s even a small cut on his forehead that bleeds enough to look bad, when it’s probably really shallow. Ennoshita sighs, looking upwards to see the starving, glowing red eyes gazing hungrily down on them.

“We’ll wait for the others and make it out together. I don’t want to risk losing anyone.”

“... Terushima isn’t going to be seeing straight, how do you expect him to even make it _in_ the passageway?”

“.... Ah. Hm. Good point.” They wait in place, Akaashi and Fukunaga joining them in a short time, astonished to see the race has come to a temporary halt and Ennoshita occasionally releasing an arrow at any Harpies that leave their ledges.

“What’s going on?”

“For some reason, the beasts haven’t migrated yet, and they’re a danger to us all.”

“We thought it would be sensible to get through this together. Any idea where Terushima or Futakuchi are?” Fukunaga points downwards. At first, Ennoshita panics that the gunner may have drowned, but then a hand appears above the bow of Fukunaga’s ship and waves. Drunkenly.

Akaashi is absolutely furious, lips pursed together tightly to avoid a snarl.

“The fool filled his canister with rum and chugged it at the starting line. He’s too drunk to _stand_ , let alone sail.” Shirabu only laughs, and Yahaba isn’t that far behind, but Ennoshita shakes his head with exasperation.

“I should have known. And Futakuchi?”

“Turned back. There was an issue with his boat taking on water.”

“Yikes. Either way, let’s get out of this passageway. I’ll run out of arrows eventually.”

“That’s a terrifying prospect.” Slowly, to the mumblings of a sea shanty from Terushima, they sail one by one out the passageway, and the race begins anew. Yahaba was sure that the bad feeling would be gone by now. But no, it’s still there.

Another four hours later, they’re about halfway around the course, in a peaceful lagoon that serves as a pit stop to rest, drink, and eat. They could potentially nap, but as Yahaba looks around and sees the lit lanterns, he realises nobody is.

The good news is that Terushima has finally sobered up. He seems extremely apologetic, and maybe a little terrified of Akaashi after getting lectured by him. Henceforth, he had taken residence on Ennoshita’s boat, the only one who showed him a slither of pity.

Not much, but better than absolute zero. 

“Has anyone caught any fish yet? This bread is so dry, I feel like I’m eating chalk.” Shirabu’s bitter question is met with negatives, and one telling silence. Yahaba guffaws like he never has before when a small fish nails Shirabu in the face, thrown by Fukunaga.

“Let _minnow_ if you need more.” Yahaba laughs harder, to the point of wheezing, whilst Shirabu grumbles.

“Trust a cat to catch a fish…” A larger fish nails him in the back of the head as he’s spearing the first one. Fukunaga sends him a peace sign, Shirabu gives him a thumbs down. The other fish are shared out more kindly, tossed into the boats rather than at faces and heads.

“Thanks, Fukunaga. But how did you do it? I’ve caught _nothing_.” Fukunaga pulls his fishing rod out the water, into the light of the lantern. There’s a small fish on the end, and whilst Yahaba expects him to add it to his bucket, Fukunaga instead lowers it back in.

“What…?” He’s not the only one confused, audible confusion from Ennoshita. But then, just as Akaashi clocks on, the fishing line tugs. Fukunaga yanks it up, tugs something off and stabs it with his small dagger, holding it up to display a _catfish_.

“You’re luring in bigger fish with small, still alive fish.” Finger guns are sent Akaashi’s way, and then Fukunaga passes him a tiny fish to start his own fishing. They have bread, but fish is so much nicer, and they have the fires from their lanterns to roast them over. 

In this small lagoon, sails rolled up, the teenagers let their boats float meaninglessly. The biggest danger is gently bumping into each other, but that’s not too bad, and can be avoided with a simple push away from each other.

The sunset turns to dusk, and it’s almost… Peaceful. As Yahaba’s boat floats within whispering range of Ennoshita’s, Terushima leaning over the other side to splash the water, Ennoshita prepared to push their boats apart, Yahaba holds on instead.

“... I still have that bad feeling…”

“Are you _sure_ it’s not something you ate?”

“Absolutely. I-... Whatever is causing it, it’s getting worse. Like something is coming closer, or chasing us, or waiting to ambush us…” Ennoshita frowns in worry.

“Get some sleep. That might help.”

“And give the rest of you a free pass to overtake me? I think not~.” At this point, Terushima barrels in on the conversation, flopping backwards and making the boat slosh.

“You’re already guaranteed to beat me! I don’t even _have_ a boat!” Ennoshita hisses and promptly smacks his shoulder.

“Neither will I if you keep throwing yourself around like that!” Terushima locks eyes. He intentionally rocks the boat. Ennoshita glares, but it only makes Terushima grin wider and rock it a little harder. Before Ennoshita loses patience and lunges forwards, Yahaba pushes his boat away from them.

Maybe Ennoshita was right. 

Maybe he just needed to sleep. A quick nap whilst the others weren’t going anyways was bound to be okay, right? That in mind, he pulls a blanket over him, blows out his lantern, and closes his eyes. 

The others seem to have realised his intention, lowering their voices to whispers, and Yahaba finds himself falling asleep quickly.


	3. Going in circles!

They’re gone. 

He wakes up to daylight, and they’re _gone_.

“I’m going to keel haul the _lot_ of them!!!” It’s only as Yahaba is sorting his sails that he notices the lagoon water is rippling. And it’s _low_. So low, that he’s bobbing in the shallows, only his rudder keeping him from being dragged out to sea under the starlight.

It hits him that others may not have left willingly. If their boats hadn’t grounded themselves, and the water was pulling…

“Were these races always this dangerous…?” Kicking off from the sand with his foot, pushing his boat out just enough to ride the pull of the tides, Yahaba knows full well what he’s heading towards. 

A whirlpool. 

They’re common in this area, but easy to avoid. So the fact that the peaceful lagoon is no longer safe indicates the whirlpool has dangerously moved close to shore, or, it’s _gigantic_. Yahaba has no idea how long the others have been gone, so he opens his sails to catch the breeze completely, propelling him along at high speeds.

The first mast appears before him, and he can see Akaashi desperately trying to keep the rope tied between a pointed rock and his mast from fraying.

“Akaashi! Where are the others?!” Green eyes jolt up to him, expression flashing with relief before turning to frantic worry.

“Ennoshita, Terushima, and Fukunaga were gone when I woke up. Shirabu was tied to the rock over there but his rope snapped.” Yahaba scowls, teeth gritted with the slightest bit of concern.

“They’re so _annoying_ , getting into trouble like this. Time to haul wind, I guess.” Yahaba angles his sails a little more to catch the gust of winds he can feel breezing through his hair, and Akaashi’s eyes widen.

“You’re going after them? You’ll end up down in the depths!”

“I didn’t train an extra four to years to fail when it’s needed most!” His shout is drowned out by the wind, and he perches himself on the edge of his boat with ropes wrapped around his wrists and foot firmly placed against the rudder. 

From here, he can see the white churn of the whirlpool’s outer-spiral, and Shirabu trying to sail himself out of it. He’s doing well to remain in place, but it seems like he can’t escape the current. Yahaba drifts his boat sideways, approaching slowly.

“In a bit of trouble there, rat?” A hard glare meets his eyes, and Shirabu tugs on a rope to unfurl one half of the sail, his boat twisting and thankfully managing to beat the pull of the whirlpool’s tides.

“You wish, _swab_.” Rolling his eyes, Yahaba drifts past.

“I’m going after the others. Will you be a coward or what?”

“That’s suicide, you idiot. I haven’t even seen them, so they’re probably already dragged under.” Shirabu is probably right. Shirabu speaks sense. But Yahaba just can’t accept it. Those are his _friends_ out there, no matter how much they may be rivals.

“Then I’ll parley with Davy Jones.”

“You’re _insane_!” That’s the last thing Yahaba hears before the roar of the whirlpool takes it away. He was right to suggest it was gigantic. More than that, it’s a width he’s never seen before. The proportions are _monstrous_ , and the pull of it gets stronger as he closes in towards the centre.

His eyes scan the water, roughly being tossed up and down by the waves, searching for any signs of life or boats or wreckage-

There. 

“Ahoy!” His cry catches the attention of the three people clinging to each other in the water, bobbing under the surface and coming back up. Their boats and supplies are nowhere to be seen, but if they had to abandon ship, at least they’re alive.

Ennoshita catches the loose rope thrown his way, the other two using both arms to hang to him, making sure they stay together. Now that they’re secure, Yahaba can focus on getting them out of here. He twists his sails, jams the rudder hard, and leans all his body weight backwards.

“Helm’s a-lee!” With a shuddering jolt, the boat shifts paths, cutting through the waves. Yahaba knows what he’s doing. The Aobajousai has escaped many whirlpools, some that Oikawa intentionally sailed them through to avoid Navy ships.

To Yahaba, whirlpools are the lesser evil, and something he’s learnt from an amazing mentor and Captain.

The further they get from the center, the weaker the tides, and it’s plain sailing from here. He glances over his shoulder to make sure the others are still hanging on, sighing in relief at the sight of all three of them.

“You look like drowned rats~.” Safe, he helps hauls them onto his boat, heading back towards Akaashi and Shirabu. The best thing about whirlpools is that they move or die quickly, and this one shrinks as it shifts away from them, out of the current. 

“Thanks, Yahaba.”

“No problemo, bucko.” Ennoshita huffs a quiet laugh, focusing on breathing. Terushima groans as he leans over the side of the boat, coughing up water, and Fukunaga seems perfectly content to lay face down on the wood, hands tucked beneath his chest.

“Oiiiii~!” And just like that, Yahaba’s good mood shatters. He grits his teeth, spotting a _third_ boat alongside Akaashi and Shirabu, who wait for them on the open ocean.

“Futakuchi…” Ennoshita laughs slightly louder.

“Don’t mind, Yahaba~.” The split second they’re close enough for their boats to be within arm's length, Terushima leaps across onto Futakuchi’s boat.

“Ahoy, matey! Let me sail with you?” Futakuchi pauses as if he’s considering it, but he’s already grinning, and considering there’s now three people without a boat…

“Only if you pull your weight, _matey_ ~.”

“Oh great, they’re twice as annoying now.” It might be the only time Yahaba agrees with Shirabu. Akaashi quietly calls Fukunaga’s name and he pushes himself up, still a little winded from hitting the water hard. Fukunaga had less ‘abandoned ship’ than been thrown from it by the mast catching him off guard.

Yahaba helps him across, making sure he doesn’t land in the water again. Whilst it might just be a fact of pirate life, they try to avoid being submerged if they can help it. Lastly, Yahaba turns to Ennoshita.

“So are you sticking with me or betraying me completely?” Shaking his head in exasperation, Ennoshita crosses his legs to make himself comfy.

“I’ll stay with you, if it’s no trouble. I have a feeling Shirabu would prefer to be alone?” 

“Damn right.” Shirabu doesn’t mean it as an insult. Having been aboard the Shiratorizawa for a good few years, he’s come to value alone time, peace and quiet. This boatswain's race was probably the most peace he was going to get for a long time.

Considering he’s already been attacked by Harpies and almost caught by a whirlpool, that’s saying something.

“I guess we’re back to racing now.”

“Last one there’s a rotten cackle fruit!” Without waiting for confirmation, Futakuchi starts off, Terushima cackling from the stern. 

“H-Hey!” Shirabu is quick to follow, whilst Yahaba and Akaashi exchange a look of weariness before smirking together and setting off at the same time, trying to push ahead of each other.

It’s another half hour before they’ve settled in an order, Shirabu taking front again, Akaashi behind him, Futakuchi third, and Yahaba trailing behind. That’s okay though. He’ll catch up when the sky is just turning blue and orange, when the dawn sky is still painted with stars.

Those are the stars he knows best, and pairing them with the compass he brought from Nekoma, he’ll find his way anywhere with rippling speeds. For now though, all is calm. Ennoshita lies on his back, staring up at the sky, but his eyes flick to Yahaba when he sighs.

“Bad feeling?”

“Mhm. After the Harpies and whirlpool, you would have thought it would have gone… Maybe I’m just being silly.”

“Maybe. Daichi always says a good Captain trust his gut _and_ his skills.”

“My skills, huh?” Yahaba closes his eyes for a second, exhaling slowly. He can remember Iwaizumi’s words from the morning they set off.

_“You’ve already read the weather better than anyone else.”_

His eyes fly open. He looks to the sky, squinting in the darkness. There are a few dark clouds spotting the sky, currently only wisps, but they show no sign of puffiness and instead reach high. 

“That’s it… That’s it, there’s a storm coming. _That’s_ what the bad feeling was!” Sitting up, Ennoshita frowns.

“You seems… Happy? That there’s a storm brewing.” Yahaba shakes his head.

“Not really, but now I know what that feeling is, I can focus on making it go away. The storm, however… We’re just going to have to wait and see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos and comment~!

**Author's Note:**

> More chapters will be updated as whumptober progresses!  
> Please kudos and comment~!


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